Engaged for the Holidays
by LoveBugOC
Summary: After Hermione's cousin boasts about having a boyfriend for the Christmas Holidays, she creates an entirely made-up engagement with a fiancé who doesn't exist. That is, until she enlists one Draco Malfoy's help. All she has to do is get through her family's week-long holiday celebrations.
1. Prologue

Bonjour!

I mentioned in my last story that I was working on a Christmas story and while this one isn't the story I was talking about, it kind of took over. I hit the writer's block hard with the one I originally had in mind and came up with this one instead. Now I realize that this plot has probably been done to death now - especially in Christmas movies - but please give it a shot! It does have some differences!

It's going to come in eight parts, I think, and while I'm posting two of them tonight I'm going to continue to try to post a chapter a night.

Anyhow, enjoy! And don't hesitate to let me kno what you think :)

* * *

**Engaged For the Holidays**

_After Hermione's cousin boasts about having a new boyfriend for the Christmas Holidays, she creates an entirely made-up engagement with a fiancé who doesn't exist. That is, until she enlists one Draco Malfoy's help. All she has to do is get through her family's week-long holiday celebrations._

X

[Prologue]

Hermione Granger loves the holidays. Loves the winter season. The first snow fall. The red, white and green. The cheery decorations. The Christmas music. She loves buying gifts for her loved ones and spreading holiday cheer. She loves, well, everything about Christmas.

Everything except the Annual Granger Family Get-Together – otherwise known as the Granger Family Week-long Holiday Celebration Torture Fest. It's the only time of year she sees her Aunt Mary and Uncle George Granger and their daughter – her annoying, superficial cousin – Caroline.

Every year it's always the same thing – they all spend the week leading up to Christmas Day at her family's winter cottage in the mountains. And every year, Caroline has a new boyfriend who she insists on rubbing in her face. Okay, so maybe she's been with the same guy – Tyler – for the last three years. But she still rubs her face in it, boasting that she's in a committed relationship – "practically engaged" – while Hermione hasn't had a steady boyfriend in nearly five years.

And just like every year, Caroline calls her the weekend before she's to join her family in the middle of nowhere, to rub it in some more.

"I just know he's going to propose this week," Caroline gushes. "I can tell. I reckon it'll ether be on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Can you imagine? That would be so romantic, don't you think?"

"Mhmm, so romantic," Hermione agrees, sounding bored.

"Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk about you. When are you going to find yourself a boyfriend?"

Hermione groans inwardly, rolling her eyes as she leans back against her Ministry-approved chair in her office. "Caroline-"

"I'm just saying, Hermione. I'm a little bit worried for you. I mean, here I am, younger than you and I'm practically engaged and you're...you haven't even been in love. And boarding school crushes don't count."

"Caroline-"

"You know, Tyler's best friend is newly single. Maybe I should set you guys up. Oh my God, that's a brilliant idea! He's into books and he's really smart and geeky – you guys would totally get along! I'm gonna talk to Tyler and see what he thinks-"

"Caroline," Hermione snaps, pushing herself forward suddenly. "Look, I..." She trails off, running her hands through her hair. And then, without thinking, she says the first thing that comes to mind – it's also the craziest. "I'm engaged."

"What?"

Her eyes widen and she claps her hand over mouth as she reels at her own words.

"What are you talking about? Engaged? Since when?!" Caroline demands.

"Since – um – I...I wasn't going to say anything – I was gonna keep it a surprise, but-"

"Oh my God who is he?! Is he cute? What's he like in bed?"

"Ew, Caroline, I – I have to get back to work," she says quickly. All she wants now is to get away from this conversation and think. Think about how she's going to get herself out of this. "I have to go, I'll see you in a couple days."

"Wait, you're bringing your fiancé, right?"

"Bye, Caroline."

Before she can respond, Hermione hangs up the phone and drops it onto her desk. She groans out loud, burying her face in her hands.

X

"You do realize you aren't engaged, right?" Ginny asks her as she continues to fold her clean clothes by hand. "You don't even have a boyfriend."

"Don't remind me," Hermione mutters.

"Why on earth would you tell her that?" Ginny wonders curiously.

"You should've heard her, Gin. It's the same thing every year – she goes on and on about her oh-so-perfect relationship and then she goes on and on about my non-existent relationship and I just...snapped," she admits. "God, I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, you're just desperate. It happens to the best of us – especially where family is involved."

Hermione snorts. "And how would you know? Your family-"

"Have you seen the size of my family?"

The brunette snorts. "Good point. I guess I should call her back and tell her the truth..."

"Or," Ginny starts, turning to face her friend. She looks cunning and mischievous. "You can find someone to play the part of your loyal, loving fiancé and get back at your awful cousin in person."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "And where am I going to find a fake fiancé on such short notice – not to mention a week before Christmas?" She asks, sounding skeptical.

"I have someone in mind, but I don't think you're going to like it..."

"Who?" She asks curiously.

"He's tall, handsome, extremely charming and I know for a fact that he isn't doing anything special for Christmas anyways."

X

She hesitates outside his office door, his name plate glaring back at her. She can't do this, she decides. She won't. She'll just go back to her office, call Caroline and admit that she lied. So what if her cousin laughs in her face and humiliates her in front of her entire family – because she will, there's no doubt about that. It'll probably still be better than stooping so low as to ask a man like him to assist her.

She must be crazy to have agreed to go along with Ginny's outrageous plan. In fact, Ginny Potter must be crazier than her.

As if on cue, as she turns to leave and find her way back to her own office down the hall, she hears a deep drawl calling her name from behind her: "Ah, Granger. Just the bookworm I wanted to see."

She rolls her eyes, turning back to face one very tall and handsome – albeit extremely irritating – Draco Malfoy. "Malfoy," she greets him.

"I need you to pass this along to Kingsley. It's my report," he declares, pushing it into her hands.

"What, no 'please' or 'thank you'?" She snaps.

He smirks. "What are you, my mother?"

She rolls her eyes once more, folding her arms across her chest as she glares at him.

"Well, unless there's something more you'd like to say to me-"

"No, nothing," she replies quickly – too quickly.

"Good."

"Great."

He turns and lets himself into his office, the very one she'd been standing outside of.

On impulse, she follows him in. "Actually, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"Ask away then," he tells her, sounding bored as he lowers himself into his seat behind his desk. When she doesn't say anything he looks at her expectantly. "Well?"

Hermione blinks, clearing her throat. "You're not doing anything for the holidays, right?"

"Nope. I never do, that's nothing new," he drawls.

"Okay here's the thing: I need you to pretend to be my fiancé for the week, starting Monday," she tells him quickly. "My cousin always hounds me about the fact that I'm never in a steady relationship and she loves to rub my face in the fact that she's 'practically engaged' and it's so humiliating and without thinking I told her I was engaged. So now I need someone to pretend to be my fiancé at our Granger Family Torture Fest for the holidays so I don't make a complete fool of myself." When she finishes, she takes a deep breath, staring at him nervously.

He looks at her, contemplating all that he's heard. "And you want me to be your fake fiancé?"

"It was Ginny's idea. She said you never have plans for Christmas and that you'd be the ideal kind of guy that would help rub it in my cousin's face. You know: good looking, wealthy...charming," she replies. Perhaps stroking his ego will get him to agree.

"And what will I get out of this?" He asks expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "What will you do for me?"

"It's Christmas, Malfoy. Perhaps you shouldn't be so selfish."

"You're one to talk."

She sighs; he has a point. "I can pay you."

He smirks. "I don't want your money, Granger. I've got plenty of my own."

"Then what do you want? I'll do anything."

He looks her up and down – more to just rile her up than anything. Although the view is quite spectacular. "Anything?"

She glares at him. "Within reason."

He thinks for a moment. "I'm still not even sure I want to agree to this. Why would I want to spend quality time with your muggle family when you don't even like me?"

She sighs. "You know what – forget it. I'll figure something else out," she snaps, spinning on her two inch heels and walking out.

X

Just as she picks up her cellphone, her office door swings open and a certain cocky, blond haired wizard saunters into the room. "Put the bloody muggle contraption of yours down before you make a greater fool of yourself than you already have, Granger. I'll do it and I have my price."

She looks at him, placing the device on the desk in front of her. "What'll it be?"

"I want a date with Avalon."

She blinks, looking at him weirdly. "The secretary?"

"Yes."

"Why? And what do I have to do with it?"

"It's none of your business why – although I'm sure it's fairly obvious. And I want you to set it up for me," he declares.

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Because she's probably the only witch in the world, aside from you of course, who hates me. So I need you to set me up with her – but don't tell her it's with me, just say it's a blind date. I'll set everything else up," he tells her.

She narrows her gaze at him. "So...you want me to trick some poor girl into going out with you?"

"Yes."

"You're...you're despicable."

"And yet you need me," he smirks. "That's my offer, Granger. You do this for me; I'll pretend to be your fiancé for your muggle family. Take it or leave it."

She considers him for a moment, leaning back in her chair as he plays with the small nick-knacks on the edge of her desk. "Fine."

He grins. "Great."

"But we'll have to go over some ground rules and come up with a believable story for how we met – you know, how you wooed me and-"

"Who says I have to be the one to woe you?" He disagrees.

"It'll be mutual, then."

"Fine," he concedes.

"Fine."


	2. December 20

_[One – December 20]_

She arrives at his place of living – the entire top floor penthouse suite of one of London's most prestige apartment buildings. In the muggle world; go figure. The elevator takes her straight into his lobby, which is just as big as her entire flat itself. She makes a mental note to mention this in casual conversation with Caroline.

It's bright and early Monday morning on account of the fact that her family will be expecting her in just two hours. And it takes almost two hours to get there.

She walks further into the flat, taking in the very modern-day, expensive-looking furniture and fixings. It's all very...Malfoy, she must admit. She enters the living room to find one blond wizard sitting on a long, black couch. He's wearing a dark grey suit – a muggle one – with a white dress shirt, black tie and a dress shoes that probably cost more than her entire outfit – a large slouchy green sweater, black leggings and knee-high, dark brown boots. His hair is shorter than it was just a few days ago, and tousled to look messy yet sophisticated – and sexy, though she'd never admit that.

"You do realize that we're going to see my family, we're not meeting the Queen," she says.

"Good morning to you too, Granger," he mutters, taking a sip out of a tall, ceramic coffee mug. "And of course I know that. If I was going to meet the Queen I'd have done my hair."

She rolls her eyes. "You don't have to wear a suit. In fact you probably shouldn't."

He looks at her over the top of his Daily Prophet. "I wasn't aware there was a dress code for this occasion."

"There isn't, it's just-"

"Look, Granger, I know what I'm doing."

"Really? Because it seems to me it's going to make everyone think this a hoax because we don't match," she snaps.

He smirks, pushing himself to his feet. "First of all it _is_ a hoax, so don't forget that. And second of all, I'm only wearing a suit to make me look busy and professional. This way your family will _see_ and _believe_ that I'm successful instead of you just _telling_ them I am. If they ask why I'm wearing a suit I'll tell them I had a meeting with the board of directors at the hospital."

She blinks, staring up at him. "You've thought this through."

"Of course I have – what kind of Slytherin would I be if I didn't?"

"Very well," she nods. Bringing her purse around, she digs inside it and pulls out a cellphone before handing it to him.

He stares at it dumbly. It's attractive looking, sure, with its flat screen. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You're a doctor, remember? You need a cellphone for emergencies."

"I don't even know how to use one and you want me to pretend I own one?"

She rolls her eyes, pushing it into his hands. "I'll show you how to use it on the way there. Where are your bags? We have to go."

"Before we go, did you speak with Avalon?"

She sighs. "Yes."

"And?"

"She's skeptical, but I told her to trust me – so don't you _dare_ make me regret this."

X

"I still don't see why we couldn't have just apparated some place close by and then taken a car from there," he argues for what feels like the hundredth time as she turns onto a narrow, snow covered road with a just a few tire tracks. "Would've saved us nearly two hours."

"We would've also missed all the great scenery," she points out.

"Mhmm, 'cause you won't get enough of that being cooped up in the middle of freaking nowhere."

"If I had known you were going to complain so much I would've told you to meet me here," she snaps.

"If I had known the drive was going to be like that I wouldn't have come at all and you would've been humiliated by your dear cousin, yet again," he snaps back.

The next two minutes are spent in silence as she pulls her car to a stop behind her parent's SUV. She sighs, leaning back against her seat as she looks sideways at him to see him staring out his passenger side window at the cottage before them.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be," he comments.

"Does it reach your standards?"

He smirks. "Not sure yet."

She rolls her eyes before closing them and tilting her head up towards the ceiling of the car. Her stomach is in knots – what if this doesn't work? What if they see straight through their charade? What if Caroline makes a fools of her in front of everyone – in front of _him_? That's just what he needs...more ammunition to hit her with.

"It's going to be fine, Granger," he tells her calmly. "I'm an excellent actor."

"I'm not," she murmurs.

"Just follow my lead."

"You can still back out if you want to," she says softly, looking across at him. "I mean, it's not too late."

"I'm not backing out, Granger. If I was going to back out I would've backed out two hours ago when you screamed at me to get in the car."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"We made a deal – and Malfoy's always stick to their deals. The question is: do Grangers?"

She laughs softly, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now how do I get out of this death trap?"

"Pull the handle and push on the door."

He scowls. "That doesn't even make any sense," he mutters, but follows the instructions nonetheless. The door opens two seconds later and he grins triumphantly. "Well would you look at that..."

X

The second they walk into the house, Draco carrying both his and her suitcase, she knows there's no going back. Especially since Caroline is the first person to greet her.

"Mini!" The raven-haired woman screeches, jumping up from the couch beside her boyfriend before running towards her. She throws her arms around her cousin's neck, hugging her tightly. "Took you long enough! Your mum was starting to worry."

"Mum always worries," Hermione laughs, rolling her eyes as she hugs her cousin back.

Caroline releases her cousin and takes a step back. Her gaze on the man behind Hermione. "You must be the fiancé," she coos, smiling brightly. "Draco, right?"

He nods, setting both suitcases on the floor as the rest of Granger's family join them in the front hall to greet them. For a moment he almost feels overwhelmed by all the introductions and the hugs from the females.

"You have to tell us _everything_, Mini. Where you met, how you met, how he proposed-"

"Of course," Hermione agrees quickly, glancing back at the only blond in the room who raises his eyebrows knowingly. "I think we're just going to put our stuff away first, right honey?"

He nods. "Sounds good to me."

X

"One bed?" He asks, eyebrows raised at he stares at the king-sized bed before them.

"I'm surprised my father allowed this," Hermione jokes.

"One bed."

She rolls her eyes. "We have magic, Malfoy, remember? We can split it into two if it bothers you so much."

"And if someone walks in and sees that there's two beds instead of one?"

"Would you rather sleep on the floor?"

"Why would I have to sleep on the floor? I'm your guest," he points out.

"Because it's the proper thing to do."

"Yeah, perhaps if I was your actual fiancé, but I'm not."

"Then _what_ do you propose we do?"

He sighs, lifting both suitcases onto the top of the bed. "Do you snore?"

"No."

"Are you a blanket hog?"

"We can use two blankets."

He nods. "Fine. We'll share the _one_ bed – although I don't see why you couldn't have asked for a room with two beds."

"Oh, like that wouldn't have been suspicious," she snaps.

"Couples sleep in separate beds all the time-"

"Yeah, when they're _old_. Besides, how was I supposed to know you were so _afraid_ of sharing a bed with a girl?"

He smirks. "You're not a _girl_, Granger."

"Oh, right, silly me. I'm just a mudblood," she mutters.

He blinks, staring at the back of her head as she begins to unpack her suitcase. "That's not what I meant," he says softly. "I just meant-"

"I know what you meant," she whispers. "I'm sorry, it just came out."

He sighs. "Look, I'm sure we can share a bed without trying to kill each other, right?"

"I make no promises."

He chuckles. "'Atta girl."

X

The afternoon is spent preparing the cottage for decorating – which will be done tomorrow, along with picking and trimming the tree.

Dinner is served at 5 o'clock sharp. Everyone gathers in the warm, cozy dining room around a large rectangular table. The table is covered in a red and white Christmas cloth and eight spots are set with plates and silverware. Jim Granger is sat at one head of the table while his brother, Hermione's uncle, sits at the other. To Jim's right sits his wife, Helen. Next her: Hermione and then Draco. On the other side, next to George is his wife Mary, Caroline and then Tyler.

Three bites in, Caroline pipes up. "So, tell us then," starts, taking a sip of her red wine.

Hermione blinks, mid-chew. "Sorry?"

"Tell us about the two of you!" She pushes.

"Oh. Well I'm not sure that's necessary-"

"Of course it is, darling," Helen tells her softly, smiling sideways at her.

"I mean it's like one minute you were single and the next you're engaged," Caroline giggles. "Obviously there's a story here – one you've kept a secret for goodness knows how long."

She licks her lips, glancing sideways at Draco and he nods at her. She swallows the lump in her throat and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She's practiced this moment and gone over the details a hundred times – and yet her mind is blank. She doesn't remember anything they'd come up with just a few days ago. "Um, well, it was just so long ago now that I'm not even sure I remember," she jokes, laughing uneasily.

Nobody else laughs; they just stare at her expectantly.

Draco looks from Hermione – the damsel in distress – to the rest of her family. She's sinking, no doubt forgotten everything they've gone over a hundred times. He clears his throat and leans forward, placing his hand over hers on the dinner table. "Come now, it wasn't _that_ long ago, darling," he says, grinning playfully. "Of course you remember – I remember. And I'll never forget it."

"Aww!" Caroline gushes, her attention glued on the pale, blond man.

Hermione looks at him, smiling softly as she holds onto his fingers for good measure.

"We met just over a year ago – November 23rd," he starts, leaning back in his chair again. "It was snowing and I decided to duck into a little coffee shop down the street from my flat on my way to work. The place was bustling with people trying to get warm so the lineup was almost out the door, but I waited anyway. Next thing I know the door opens behind me, a huge gust of wind blows into the cafe – with snow and everything – and some klutzy, beautiful woman with messy hair and pink cheeks falls into my arms. Literally-"

"-I fell, but he caught me right before I landed on my face," Hermione explains, finally finding her voice.

Draco smirks, looking sideways at her. "So I stood her upright, told her I was a doctor, requested to make sure she wasn't hurt – to which she snapped at me: 'I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much,'-"

"-I was having a bad day."

"And then bought her a coffee and sent her on her way before I headed off to work."

"Then he couldn't stop thinking about me," Hermione quips, smiling triumphantly.

He looks at her, narrowing his eyes as he catches onto her game. "Says the one who couldn't stop thinking about _me_."

She laughs innocently, taking a bit of her homemade sandwich.

"Anyway," he continues, playing his part. "I went back the next day – my day off – on the off-chance that she would be there and there she was, sitting at one of the small round tables with her back to corner and a book in her hands-"

"Of course," Caroline snorts.

Draco smirks. "So I bought myself a coffee, asked her if I could join her – to which she asked me a series of skill-testing questions-"

"-I had to be sure I wasn't wasting my time," Hermione says defensively at her mother's raised eyebrows. Her father high-fives her from across the table.

"Which I passed, with flying colours I must add, and then we spent what, three hours talking?"

"Four."

"Four hours talking-"

"And flirting.."

He raises his eyebrows, looking playfully offended. "Hey, I wasn't the only one flirting."

Her cheeks instinctively turn a dark shade of ink as she slips down in her chair.

Draco smirks, making a mental note to bank that little fact for later ammunition as he turns back to her family. "Anyway, we went on a total of three dates the following weekend. And we've been together ever since."

"That's so sweet," Mary gushes.

"But, wait a second, that means you were together last Christmas – I asked you if you were seeing anyone and you said no!" Caroline accuses.

Hermione blinks, caught off guard. "I didn't want to rush into anything or jinx it-"

"Actually neither of us did. That's why we kind of kept it a secret until recently," Draco adds.

"How long have you been engaged?" Helen asks.

"Three weeks," they reply in unison, just as they'd rehearsed.

"How long have you been living together? _Are_ you living together?" Mary asks.

"I moved her into my flat four months ago," Draco replies.

"And nobody knew of your relationship? Friends, coworkers?" Caroline presses.

"Well, our friends guessed at it," replies Hermione. Draco nods.

"Have you set a date?" Jim wonders between bits of his steak.

"For what?" Hermione wonders.

"For the wedding, silly!" Caroline coos.

"Oh. Oh! Um," she glances nervously at Draco, leans forward once more to save the day.

"Nothing's set in stone yet, but we're thinking a spring wedding. It's Hermione's favourite season," he says.

"Oh that'll be lovely!" Mary gushes.

And as her family delves into a conversation about what time of year they think is the best season for a wedding, Hermione turns to face the blond man beside her. The same man, who just a few days ago, was a right prat to her 24/7. She smiles softly, catching his gaze. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and smiles back. Perhaps they'll make it through this week after all.

X

Later that night, after changing into her pyjamas in the adjoining bathroom, Hermione walks back into the bedroom. She comes to an immediate halt as she comes face-to-face with a half-naked Malfoy, standing before her in a pair of emerald pyjama pants. He's in the middle of putting on a plain white T-shirt when she walks out, his chest otherwise bare. "Sorry," she apologizes quickly, spinning on her heel to face the bathroom door with her back to him.

"I'm decent now," he chuckles.

When she turns back around he is, in fact, dressed – and preparing the bed by removing the various useless pillows from the headboard. "Sorry, I should've knocked."

He shrugs, glancing up at her through his eyelashes. He smirks, noticing her flannel red pyjamas with white snowflakes. "Stylish," he teases.

"I get cold," she defends weakly.

"Mhmm," he murmurs, unconvinced.

"So I wanted to thank you," she says, changing the subject quickly as she walks towards the bed to help him. "For speaking up at dinner. I couldn't have done that alone."

"Well you aren't alone," he points out. "My reputation is riding on this too."

She rolls her eyes as she pulls the covers back. "Anyway, thank you."

He looks at her for a moment, watching her crawl under the covers and settle into the mattress with her back to him. "You're welcome."


	3. December 21

_[Two – December 21]_

Hermione wakes to the sound of running water. She groans, rolling over onto her back before pushing herself onto her elbows. As if on cue, the shower stops. She crawls out of bed, slips her feet into her white fuzzy slippers and crosses the room to open the curtains at the window. She squints, shielding her eyes with her hands until they adjust to the sunlight flooding the room.

The door to the bathroom opens and she turns to the side to see Draco emerge. He's wearing dark blue jeans and a green long sleeved shirt. His hair is still damp, sticking out every which way - probably from having run a towel over it. "Hey," he greets her.

"Morning," she replies, smiling softly. "How'd you sleep?"

He shrugs. "Fine. You snore, by the way."

She opens her mouth in mock-offense. "I do not snore," she says defensively.

He smirks. "You totally snore."

"I don't snore," she repeats, less certain but stubborn all the same.

"Oh yeah," he chuckles, collecting his wand from the drawer of the table at his bedside. "And how would you know if you've never heard yourself sleep?"

She opens her mouth to argue, before closing it and narrowing her gaze at him. He smirks again, winking cockily and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't snore."

He rolls his eyes, tucking his wand into the back pocket on his jeans. "Whatever you say, Granger. Whatever you say."

"I'm going to take a shower," she announces, changing the subject quickly. "Do you want me to meet you downstairs?"

His eyes widen. "And be alone with them? I don't think so. I'll wait here," he tells her, flopping back onto the bed.

"Suit yourself," she shrugs, taking some clothes out of her designated dresser.

A little while later, when she emerges from the bathroom while towel-drying her hair, she finds Draco deeply immersed in the muggle book she brought with her. So much so, in fact, that she had to call his name twice.

Still, he denies being interested.

Moments later, they join the rest of her family in the dining room for breakfast – French toast, milk, and fruit salad on the side – and to discuss the day's plans.

X

"Honestly, Granger, how long does it take to pick a bloody Christmas tree?" Draco complains, following the messy haired brunette down another row of trees.

They've been shopping for a tree for half an hour now and Hermione has yet to find a "suitable" tree. This is their task this afternoon – find a tree, bring it home, let it set and then decorate it. And, of course, Granger has to be the pickiest tree picker in the whole bloody world.

"None of them have been good enough," she complains right back.

"_They've_ been fine, _you're_ just bonkers."

She stops walking then and he almost walks right into her as she whirls around to face them. "Have you ever picked out a Christmas tree before?"

"No-"

"Because you had house-elves for that, right?"

He narrows his gaze, pushing his hands into his pockets. "No. Because a tree's a tree, Granger."

"A tree is not _just_ a tree," she argues, to which he mutters, "Oh Merlin, here we go..."

"There's a science behind it-"

"Science," he echoes disbelievingly.

"Yes. You have to take into consideration the height, the weight – are the needles green enough, too green? Is it moist enough – is it too thirsty?"

He stares at her for a moment. "Yeah, you're bonkers."

She goes to retort, but Caroline's voice interrupts her. "There you guys are!" She squeals, throwing one arm around Hermione's shoulder. "C'mon, Tyler's waiting in the car – where's the tree?"

Draco smirks. "Little Miss Green Tree over here can't pick one."

Caroline laughs.

Hermione glares at him. "Well maybe if you didn't complain the whole time we could've gone through this place a lot faster."

"Well maybe if you weren't so stubborn, we could've been done a long time ago," he retorts.

"Has anyone every told you you fight like an old married couple?" Caroline wonders.

The 'couple' look at each other awkwardly and Hermione's cheeks turn three shades of pink as she recalls a time not too long ago that Ginny had claimed the same thing.

Draco smirks. "Once or twice."

"It's kind of adorable," her cousin admits. "Now, find a tree and lets gooooo," she coos.

Draco nods, turning to the row of trees to his left and picks out the first one that catches his eye. "This one. We're taking this one."

Hermione sighs, taking a moment to inspect it before agreeing.

"Now was that so hard?" He teases.

She scowls at him as he throws a playful arm over shoulder. "That was just a lucky find."

"Mhmm."

X

Directly after lunch, the decorations begin. Caroline and Tyler offer to take care of the hallways and the stairs, Mary and George decide to take on the dining room and kitchen, Hermione and her mother settle for the living room and Jim enlists Draco to help him with the front porch.

After getting his jacket and boots on, while Jim collects the outdoor lights and decorations, Draco pulls Hermione aside. "Are you sure this is a good idea – your father and I?"

"Yeah, why not?" She asks curiously.

He shrugs.

"It'll be fine," she assures him. "You're good at this, remember?"

"What, lying and deceiving?" He whispers.

"Playing the role of the perfect fiancé," she whispers back. "Look he'll probably just ask you some questions, make sure your intentions are genuine – which you'll say 'yes' to and then knowing him he'll start telling jokes 'cause he thinks he's funny. Laugh at his jokes, you'll get brownie points."

"Brownie points, right," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. He's nervous. His stomach is in knots and his palms are beginning to sweat. Why is he so nervous? It's not like he has anything to worry about.

"Just keep doing what you've been doing and you'll be fine," she says softly.

Moments later the front door closes, trapping Draco outside with her father. She knows he'll be fine – he's better at pretending they're a couple than she is, after all. And yet a part of her is still nervous – terrified, really, that he'll accidentally let something slip and their plan will fall apart.

She's in the midst of handing garland over the fireplace when her mother's voice breaks into her thoughts and her concentration. "So you and Draco," Helen starts, placing a few knickknacks atop the mantle, "you're not very affectionate with one another."

Hermione blinks, turning away slightly. "Oh, yeah, um...we're still getting used to whole public relationship thing."

Helen nods. "I see."

"I-I mean, we've just become so used to acting differently in public, you know?" Hermione explains, closing her eyes as she inwardly berates herself for not thinking this part through. What if her father asks Draco the same question? What if Draco doesn't have the same answer?

"I can see how that would be weird," her mother replies, nodding her head slightly.

Hermione breathes a sigh of relief as she continues to hang decorations.

"It's kind of sudden though, don't you think?" Helen wonders in her best casual voice. "I mean, I like him very much. He's kind and he's polite and he's charming – not to mention quite good looking. But you've only been together for just over a year and you're already planning a wedding."

Hermione blinks, biting her lip as she keeps her back to her mother. "I know, I couldn't believe it either."

"You don't think it's too soon?"

Hermione shrugs. "I don't necessarily think it matters how long you've been with someone, just how well you know them and how much you...love them."

Helen nods quietly. "Are you happy?" She wonders soon after. "Does he make you happy?"

"I – yeah. Yes, he makes me happy," she replies. She feels awful for lying, hence why she can't bring herself to look her mother in the eye.

….

"Can you hand me that hook?" Jim asks, extending his hand to Draco, who's spotting the ladder the former is currently occupying.

"Sure," the blond replies, doing as he's told.

"Thanks."

An awkward silence falls over them and Draco silently curses the fact that Granger talked him into this.

"You must be a special kind of lad," Jim says suddenly without even looking at him.

Draco looks confused. "I'm sorry?"

"To capture my Hermione's heart," the father-of-one explains. "She doesn't let just anybody in there, you know."

"I know, thanks," Draco nods awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We've been telling her for years to just give people a chance to get to know her, but she's always been too scared. I reckon it has something to do with those awful teenage years."

He blinks. "Y-you know about that?"

Jim pauses what he's doing on the roof and looks at the blond standing on the porch. "_You_ know about that?"

Draco curses himself now. "Well, I know bits and pieces."

Jim smiles. "She must _really_ be in love with you then," he chuckles, going back to his work.

The blond blinks, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. "Yeah."

"And you? You love her?"

Draco nods, glad to finally be back to a something he can play comfortably – because, truthfully, talking about her "awful" past is a little unsettling, considering the hand he once had in it. "I do."

"And you'll take care of her?"

"I will take care of her."

Jim looks at him sincerely. "Thank you."

Draco nods back; he doesn't know what else to say.

X

Draco and Jim walk back into the house, covered in snow. Hermione takes their laughter as a good sign as they shrug out of their jackets before entering the living room. She takes in Draco's snow covered blond hair and rosy cheeks and nose. He almost looks kind of adorable, she thinks.

"You guys must be frozen," says Helen. "I'll go put on the kettle."

Jim claps Draco on shoulder before following his wife into the kitchen.

"You do look frozen," Hermione says softly, walking towards a miserable looking Malfoy. On instinct, she reaches up and brushes the snow out of his hair.

He looks at her face, watching her through damp eyelashes. She looks sort of angelic, doesn't she? Pale, smooth, clear skin...dark brown eyes like chocolate...pink, supple lips-

"How'd it go?"

He blinks, pulling himself away from her to fix his hair - which only makes it messier. "Good."

"Did you have the talk?"

"As expected."

"And..?" She asks nervously, biting her lips.

He stares at her lips for a moment before tearing his gaze away and looking at the newly decorated Christmas tree. "It was fine, Granger. Like I said it would be."

She smiles.

"The tree looks good."

Her smile widens proudly. "Thanks. Mum puts on the lights and the ribbons and I do the balls-"

He smirks at her choice in words. "I'm sure you do," he murmurs.

She rolls her eyes before continuing. "I have a system, so I'm the only one who-"

As if on cue, Caroline walks into the room. "Oh just admit it, Mini. You're picky, that's all."

Hermione sighs. "Well-"

"I tried to help one Christmas a few years ago," her cousin starts, facing Draco with a smile, "and she got so frustrated she undid the whole tree and started over while everyone was in bed."

Draco smirks, eyeing Hermione knowingly, "You don't say." He's had his fair share of run-ins with the same stubborn and impossibly picky Granger as well. And this afternoon isn't even the half of it.

Hermione breathes a sigh of relief when Helen returns to tell everyone the tea is ready. "Thank goodness," she mutters, dragging Draco into the kitchen after her.

X

"She always does that," Hermione grinds out between clenched teeth as she takes one of the pillows off the bed and tosses it onto the floor with the rest. "If she can't one-up me she has to try to find some other way to humiliate me."

Draco sighs, rolling his eyes as he pulls back the covers on his side of the bed. "I don't think she deliberately tries to humiliate you, Granger."

Hermione looks at him, placing her hands on her hips. "Oh? Then why would she share all of those personal, embarrassing stories with you?"

"They weren't even that embarrassing," he points out, referring to the holiday decorating habits that Caroline so boldly pointed outs. "She thinks I'm your fiancé. Besides, isn't that what family does? Share embarrassing stories?"

"Well, I guess," she mutters, climbing onto the bed. "But she takes it too far!"

He shakes his head, lying back against his pillows. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Look, Granger...just give her a break. Some people would kill to have a family like yours."

She blinks, looking at him around the curtain of her hair. His arms fall back to his sides as he too looks at her. He looks away quickly though, staring up at the ceiling. She lies back on the bed in silence before reaching over to turn off the lamp on her bedside table.

"Why does she call you 'Mini'?" He asks suddenly, his voice hoarse – probably due to the fact that he's tired.

She laughs softly. "She couldn't say ''Mione' when we were younger – it always came out 'Mini'," she explains. "She just never gave the nickname up."

"I might adopt it." She can practically hear his evil smirk.

"I might kill you in your sleep if you do," she retorts. "Which I can do now."

"You wouldn't dare. You need me."

"Only for five more days."


	4. December 22

Thanks for the reviews and such, guys! And thanks for bearing with the OOC-ness and the lack of any real angst...it's odd for me too, hah. Anyway, here's the next part! Enjoy :)

* * *

_[Three-December 22]_

When Hermione wakes up she's a little surprised to find herself alone. Draco isn't anywhere in the bedroom and he isn't in the bathroom. Yesterday he refused to leave the room without her because he didn't want to spend time with her family alone, despite the fact that he was never very good at wanting to be anywhere near her. At first she's a little worried – did he leave? He could've left in the middle of the night; could've disapparated straight home and left her stranded here to explain to her parents why he was gone. What would she tell them? The truth? Perhaps she could stretch the truth a little bit more and just say that he got called into work and couldn't say no – he is supposed to be a doctor.

All of her worries, however, come to a complete halt when she sees his suitcase still sitting on the floor next to the dresser. She breathes a sigh of relief for the fact that she doesn't have to scramble for another lie. Wherever he is, he's probably just fine, she decides.

Moments later, after crawling out of bed, opening the curtains to let in some natural light and changing in the bathroom – just in case Draco picked that exact moment to walk in – she walks downstairs to find Caroline alone in the kitchen.

"Morning!" Her cousin chirps.

"Morning," Hermione smiles politely. "Where is everyone?" She asks as she starts to prepare herself two slices of bread with peanut butter.

"The oldies went into town to get some groceries and supplies and things," Caroline replies. "Mum's terrified we're going to run out of food."

On cue, Draco walks in through the back door followed by Tyler. Both of them wearing jackets and covered in snow. "I'm starving!" Tyler announces.

Caroline giggles. "And she might just be right," she adds, offering her boyfriend a plate she'd prepared for him.

Draco comes up behind Hermione, looking over her shoulder. "What, I don't get a plate too?" he teases.

"I just got down here. What were guys doing?"

"Shoveling."

Hermione snorts. "Shoveling? _You_? Since when do you shovel?"

"Hey, I shovel," he says defensively. "I just don't shovel very often because I don't have to."

She rolls her eyes. The second she finishes spreading the peanut butter evenly over one slice, he snatches it off the plate. "Hey!" she protests.

"Thanks, luv," he winks.

"You – that's not fair! You can't just steal my food!"

"I believe I just did," he replies cheekily.

She's about to argue some more when she notices that both Caroline and Tyler are watching them. Instead she just swats his arm in silence, ignoring his triumphant grin.

"So Tyler and I were talking about going skiing after lunch," Caroline says, changing the subject. "Do you guys want to come?"

Hermione looks Draco, who shrugs indifferently. She, on the other hand, is hesitant. "I-I dunno..."

"Aw, c'mon! Why not?" Caroline whines.

"You know I'm not very good."

Her cousin pouts.

"I dunno, I think we should go," Draco says casually.

She snaps her gaze towards him, eyebrows raised.

"You're always talking about how much you like the snow. We should go out and enjoy it."

She glares at him, making sure that neither Caroline nor Tyler can see her. _Of course_ he would use this little tid-bit of information against her – information she once told him in the middle of one of their many work fights.

"I'm actually pretty good, so don't worry," he says, sounding like the sweet, perfect boyfriend he isn't. "I won't let you fall."

She doesn't believe a word, but rather than make herself look like an idiot, she agrees to go.

X

The second she does up the last strap securing her foot into her ski, she regrets ever agreeing to join Tyler and Caroline on the hill. Sure it's a private hill and it isn't even that big, and yes she likes snow, but it still feels like there's a rock in the pit of her stomach. She pushes herself to her feet within the small hut at the top of the hill and looks towards the doorway at Draco, who's watching her expectantly. Thank goodness Caroline and Tyler have gone ahead.

"Ready?" Draco asks her.

"No. Are you really any good?" She asks, cursing herself for sounding like a small, frightened child. Especially in front of _him_.

He scoffs. "Of course not. I've never skied a day in my life."

"Wha-" she starts, her mouth falling open in a baffled 'O' shape. "You – why'd you say you were good?!"

He shrugs indifferently, pushing the door to the outside open for her. "I'm trying to impress your cousin, remember? Besides, just because I'm not any good, doesn't mean I can't pretend to be."

She narrows her gaze, setting her hands on her hips. "You're using magic."

"Just a little spell..."

"Well I want to use it!"

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you already told them you're crap at it, you can't just magically be good at it," he says obviously. And then, realizing his choice of words he adds: "So to speak."

"Dammit," she mutters.

He smirks. "That's why you weren't in Slytherin – you're just not cunning enough."

She opens her mouth to protest but Caroline's voice interrupts her, coming up behind Draco with her own boyfriend in tow. "Are you two done your flirting yet? The snow is beginning to melt out here," she jokes.

Draco laughs, telling her it was a "good one" as he cocks his head for Hermione to come forward. She frowns, maneuvering her way towards them. "Ready to shine, dear Granger?" He murmurs in her ear as she waddles by him.

"I hate you," she mutters back.

X

What feels like three hours later, Hermione finally decides to give up. Alone, feet sore and all-around uncomfortable, she falls awkwardly to her knees before changing her position so she can unbuckle her skis.

"What are you doing?"

She peers up at an amused, albeit confused looking Draco Malfoy, whose arms are crossed over his chest with a ski pole in each hand. "I don't want to do this anymore. I'm going back to the cottage."

He sighs. "Granger, c'mon. We've only been out for half an hour."

"And I've gotten absolutely nowhere!" She complains, throwing her arms up in frustration. "I told you I wasn't any good, I can't even get the damn ski off my foot."

He smirks, extending his hand to her. "Give me your hand."

"What? Why?" She asks skeptically.

"Just give me your hand."

She looks weary.

He raises his eyebrows. "And you call yourself a Gryffindor? Where's your courage? Your bravery?"

Her gaze narrows at him. "I left it in the hut at the top of the hill," she replies dryly.

He rolls his eyes. "Just give me your damn hand, for Merlin's sake."

Grudgingly, she does as she's told and slips her hand in his before he quickly pulls her to her feet.

"Okay steady...just stand still for a minute," he tells her, moving so that he's standing behind her.

"I'm going to fall-"

"You're not going to fall."

"I'm _so_ going to fall."

"I won't let you fall. We're gonna go slow."

"We?"

They start moving down the hill, him behind her with his hands firmly placed on her hips to keep her in place. "See? Not so bad."

He lets go and she stays on her feet for a few more feet without him, using her poles to guide her. A few moments later she loses her footing and lands with a thud on her rump.

Draco laughs as he comes to a stop next to her and joins her on the ground in the snow.

She glares sideways at him. "You said you weren't going to let me fall."

"I didn't. You fell on your own," he points out.

Hermione rolls her eyes, finally unbuckling the straps on her skis to free her feet. Instead of responding, however, she takes a fist full of snow in gloved-hand and throws it at him. The wind sends the snowflakes flying into his face, which sparks a retaliation from him – which then ignites a full-fledged war.

And if only for a little while, they both forget where they are and what they're doing.

X

After taking a hot shower to warm herself up, Hermione makes her way back downstairs to join the rest of her family – and Draco. On the way, however, she's distracted by the sound of her cousin's voice coming from within the room she's sharing with Tyler. The door is open just a crack and so, curious, she presses herself against the wall to eavesdrop.

"I mean, they haven't even kissed once," Caroline whispers – and Hermione knows exactly who she's talking about.

"Maybe they aren't big fans of PDA like you are," Tyler points out logically – this is why she kind of likes the bloke: he's smart.

"It isn't PDA, we're her family."

"Then maybe she's just shy. You _did_ say he's the first guy she's ever brought home, right?"

"I guess. I just think it's weird that they don't show any affection – I mean you'd think, with them being oh-so-in love and all fluffy and passionate they'd be all over each other. They're bloody well engaged for heaven's sake, we should be telling them to keep their hands to themselves!"

Having heard enough of Caroline's complaints – like it's any of her business anyways – she continues on her way downstairs. She finds Draco in the kitchen with her mother. They're cooking, she notices – and she takes a moment to watch as her mum instructs him to add "just a pinch" of salt to the pot of stew on the stove. He does so, enthusiastically, and even stirs the pot with her mother's favourite wooden spoon. He's the first one to notice her and he clears his throat awkwardly, trying to play it cool as he sets the spoon back down and steps away from the stove.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" she asks softly.

"Am I in trouble?" he wonders wearily, to which she shakes her head. "Then yes."

She pulls him the sleeve of his sweater down the hall and into the bathroom.

"Didn't take you for a bathroom quickie kind of girl, _fiancé_."

"Shut up," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "This is serious."

"Okay."

"I just heard Caroline and Tyler talking about us and she was complaining about our lack of...affection for one another. She thinks we lack passion-"

"-We have plenty of passion-"

"-The _relationship_ kind, and she was complaining about the fact that we haven't even kissed."

"And?"

"And my mum was wondering the same thing yesterday!"

"Well what'd you say?"

She shrugs, tucking her damp hair behind her ears. "I said we were still getting used to our relationship being out in the open."

He blinks. "Then I fail to see the problem."

"The problem is that now that Caroline has noticed, she's going to push and push and push until she gets what she wants. She's going to start asking questions and we'll either have to come up with a very convincing lie or..." she trails off, swallowing the growing lump in her throat.

He cocks an eyebrow. "Or?"

"Or we need to kick it up a notch. We have to start acting like a couple."

He smirks. "You just want me to kiss you."

"Draco be serious," she snaps, rolling her eyes. "I didn't even think about this stuff – the hand-holding and the cuddly stuff." She pauses, looking away from him in deep thought. "Maybe we should just tell them all the truth," she sighs.

"And why would you want that?"

"I don't, but _you_ must. I mean you probably think that the thought of you having to touch me-"

"-don't even attempt to say anything about your blood status," he says rather harshly, narrowing his gaze at her.

"I wasn't going to. I just meant that we can barely stand to be in the same room together for the most part and that-"

"I dunno, I think we've managed pretty well here. Besides, it's kind of fun," he admits with a nonchalant shrug.

She blinks in surprise. "So...so you don't mind?"

"Not at all. In fact I'm even better at kissing than I am at acting," he replies smugly.

"O-okay."

He winks at her playfully. "C'mon, this should be fun."

When she opens the door and walks back out into the hall she comes face-to-face with Caroline, who stops in her tracks as Draco follows suite. "Oh, hey Caroline," he greets her casually. He then turns his attention to Hermione and leans down to press his lips hard against her cheek. "Thanks again, love," he murmurs, before leaving her alone with her cousin.

Caroline arches a questioning eyebrow so Hermione just smiles and follows Draco back into the kitchen.

X

All afternoon they've been playing the part of a happy, newly engaged couple. Being flirty. Planting kisses on each other's cheeks.

With everyone gathered in the living room to watch a Christmas movie, they're currently sharing the same lazy-boy chair. The chair had been the only thing left in the room and he'd immediately sat down and pulled her onto his lap by the arm.

Now, for comfort more than anything, she's absentmindedly cuddled herself into his chest.

As the credits begin to roll, everyone gets up to stretch their limbs and get some refreshments. Hermione yawns, unraveling herself from Draco's body as she claims she's going to bed. Draco, absentmindedly watching her stretch her arms up – noticing the way her shirt lifts, showing a bit of her bare, flat stomach – says he's going to join her.

She smiles at him and then at her family as she bids them a good night. Draco echoes her and then follows her across the living room towards the stairs.

"Guys!" Caroline calls as she walks back into the room. "Look up."

They both do as they're told, looking up from the spot where they've stopped to see a mistletoe twig hanging from the ceiling, which hadn't been there earlier in the day. Hermione freezes, tearing her gaze away from the romantic plant to look at Draco – who's already staring at her. For the first time in, well, years, she can't read the expression on his face.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Kiss!" Caroline pushes.

He nods his head ever-so slightly – as though to tell her to follow his lead. She nods back. His eyes glued to hers, he raises his hands slowly, tentatively. He cups one around the back of her neck and the other cups her cheek. He hears her breath hitch in her throat and his gaze falls to her lips as he leans in.

He kisses her slowly at first, carefully, hesitantly – like a teenager kissing the girl of his dreams for the first time. It heats up quickly as his arms wrap themselves around her waist and hers curl around his neck. He deepens it, pushing his tongue past her lips as he pulls her flush against him in an effort to be as close to her as he can get. And they both forget, if only for a while, that her family is in the very same room.

They only part for air, panting heavily, and by then it's too late to continue because everyone is staring. Hermione clears her throat, disentangling herself from him once more. She turns to her family, offering an awkward "good night" with an equally awkward wave before rushing up the stairs.

Only when he hears her footsteps on the staircase, does Draco snap out of his daze. He too offers an awkward wave before escaping for the stairs.

X

They're quiet as they prepare themselves for bed once more, silently taking the pillows off the bed and placing them on the floor at the foot.

Only when they've crawled into bed does he break the silence. "I think that convinced them," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling. He's afraid to look at her; afraid he'll want to kiss her again. Afraid he _will_ kiss her again.

"Yeah, I think so too," she whispers back.

"Good night." He rolls away from her onto his side, tucking his arms under his pillow.

She chances a glance in his direction, staring at the back of his head. "Good night, Draco."


	5. December 23

I'm so very sorry that I didn't get to post my chapter yesterday! I had to work, then I had to finish last minute shopping, and wrap some gifts and come up with ideas for making an ugly Christmas sweater… Anyway, here's yesterday's chapter! Also, I'm going to try really hard to get a couple more posted to make up for it.

Enjoy!

* * *

_[Four – December 23]_

This time it's Draco who wakes up alone. Hermione is nowhere to be seen – or heard, which is stranger but he shrugs it off nonetheless. Perhaps she's too embarrassed by yesterday's kiss to face him this morning. Rolling onto his back, he looks over to her side of the bed to find it perfectly made – not a wrinkle in sight. Trust Granger to be a perfectionist even when it comes to making a bloody bed. Looking up the ceiling, his thoughts stray to the brunette in question and her family.

He thinks about the previous day's events – skiing with Granger, acting like a couple with Granger, kissing Granger – and how, for the most part, he doesn't exactly mind being cooped up here. It's sort of refreshing, being away from the hustle and bustle of the city. It's a great distraction from his job – which always gets increasingly stressful this time of year – not to mention it's a tremendous change from the traditions of his own family.

And he kind of likes Granger's family, and he's beginning to figure out how to tolerate her swotty, bossy, know-it-all self – even if she does get on his nerves 95 per cent of the time. In truth, they sort of complement each other with their intelligences, their wit, their ability to bicker back and forth without missing a single beat. He's always enjoyed their fights – which is partly why he's always so eager to pick them – because it riles her up to the point where she practically explodes. It's exciting.

Now, however, he's beginning to enjoy other things as well. Like her laugh. Her smile – even if her teeth are still a tad too big.

Perhaps if she weren't, well, Granger, he would like her.

Moments later he enters the kitchen to find her whole family eating breakfast. Hermione waves him over to the empty spot next to her and he finds that she'd even prepared him a plate.

As promised, he gives her what she wants – the perfect fiancé – by kissing the top of her fuzzy head before sitting next to her. He greets everyone with a cheerful "Good morning" before asking her quietly what the plan is for the day and she tells him they're going into town for a Christmas pageant.

He blinks, raising his eyebrows in confusion. "A _what_?"

"You'll see," she murmurs, smiling mischievously.

He isn't quite sure he likes the sound of that.

X

First on the list is watching a play in the square – 'A Christmas Carol' - put on by local theatre actors. They have front row seats, with Hermione and Draco sitting at the end.

"I can't believe muggles do this willingly," he complains quietly, just moments after the play begins. His arms are crossed over his chest in an attempt to keep his body warmth from escaping.

"Do what?" She whispers back, her gaze glued to the stage.

"It's freezing out here and everyone's just sitting about watching a bloody _play_. It's weird."

"_You're_ weird."

"Honestly, how difficult would it have been to do this indoors-"

"Stop complaining and just the watch the play," she snaps, swatting his elbow with the back of her hand.

He opens his mouth to protest but then thinks better of it as he slouches back into his seat to watch the play.

About mid-way through, Hermione swears she sees him watching intensely with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

X

"I'm not going," he announces, folding his arms over his chest. He refuses to move from his spot on the wooden bench facing the frozen pond.

"C'monnnn," she coos, trying to coax him. "It's easy! Look, Caroline and Tyler are out there," she says, pointing to where the couple is skating in circles on the ice.

"They obviously don't care about falling through the ice."

"You're not going to fall through the ice, it's perfectly safe!"

"Oh? And what about these blades then?" he asks sarcastically, lifting his foot. "It's like having a knife on the bottom of my foot."

She rolls her eyes, grabbing his arms and pulling him forcefully to his feet. He stumbles, but she catches him. "I had to go skiing because of you. You owe me."

He glares at her through his eyelashes. "You're evil."

Moments later, with his arm looped through hers to keep him steady on his feet as she moves them across the slippery surface, he asks her how she's comfortable with skating but not with skiing.

"It's easier to control your speed when you're skating."

X

It's well after dark when the Grangers plus one – technically two, with Tyler – are on their way back to their parked the cars. At the exact same time, both Hermione and Caroline see a BeaverTail truck across the street.

"Beaver tails! Mini, Beaver tails!" Caroline squeals, grabbing her cousin's arm as she begins to pull her across the street.

Hermione giggles, looking over her shoulder at Draco. "Want one?"

"No thanks," he replies, on account of the fact that he doesn't even know what it is.

"Yes you do, I'm getting you one anyway."

"I'm not sure I want to know what a beaver's tail tastes like."

She rolls her eyes. "You'll love it," she says, jogging to keep up with her cousin.

Tyler laughs, telling him she's right and that once he tries a beaver tail his life will never be the same again.

Draco smirks. "The frustrating thing is that she's _always_ right."

And sure enough, it turns out Draco likes beaver tails.

X

"So did you have a good time today?" Hermione asks, more to break the silence than anything. It's like when they're with other people – whether it be with her family or in public – they're fine, normal. But when they're left alone it's like the air has been sucked out of the room.

He shrugs, tossing the last pillow onto the floor. "It wasn't terrible."

She smirks. "Liar. You loved it."

He rolls his eyes, climbing into the bed under the covers. "Whatever you say-"

"I saw you smiling. You enjoyed yourself – admit it," she says, folding her arms over her chest.

He sighs, smiling nonetheless as he finds his comfortable spot and looks at her. "Fine, I enjoyed myself." He notices her smug look and scowls. "Don't look so smug, Granger. I know I wasn't the only one who enjoyed myself," he points out.

"Hey, I never denied it," she replies, climbing into the bed next to him. "Besides, I'm not the Scrooge."

"I'm not the Scrooge either."

"Oh really? So you don't hate Christmas?" she asks, turning on her side to face him as she leans up on her elbow. She rests her hand on her face, looking at him expectantly.

He rolls his eyes, looking at her. "No, I don't hate Christmas."

"Then why don't you celebrate it?"

His jaw tightens as he glares up at the ceiling. She recognizes the fact that she's hit a nerve – and while she would usually continue to push on it, she starts to back off, "sorry, you don't have to explain that-"

"I celebrate it, I just don't celebrate it with anyone," he explains. "I donate toys and things to St. Mungo's and every now and then I'll get a gift for someone if the opportunity arises, but I don't celebrate with my family."

"Why not?" She asks softly, curiously. Ginny had told her – and even he had admitted – that he never does anything for Christmas.

He shrugs. "Christmas was never a good time in the Malfoy household. Too much drinking on my mother's part, too much yelling on my father's, too many fights between the both of them. So I've decided that it's best to just avoid it all together."

"So that's what you meant the other night when you said that some people would kill for a family like mine," she whispers.

He smiles, glancing sideways at her. "Well, not literally."


	6. December 24

Hello again and MERRY CHRISTMAS to all! Here's the fifth part, as promised! I'm currently working on another chapter, which I'm hoping to get up in just a little while to make up for being bad yesterday…

A few notes:

-This chapter is slightly shorter than the rest, but not by much.

-BeaverTails are delish! I'm from Canada and they're seriously popular all year 'round, but especially during the winter. They're so amazing I just had to put it in…even though I'm not sure they exist in England…

Anyway, I'll stop talking and let y'all get to it. Enjoy!

* * *

_[Five – December 24]_

She wakes up to the feeling of incredible warmth – more-so than the warmth given from a blanket – and the tight, comfortable feeling of something wrapped around her. An arm. Only then does she feel the firm, warm chest pressed against her back.

She smiles softly, inviting the warmth and the comfort. She's careful not to move for fear that he might wake up and lose it. At this point she doesn't care why or how it happened, although she does have to remind herself that it doesn't mean anything. He's only here because he wants Avalon. This is all just a part of the charade. Right?

He shifts behind and against her. She feels his forehead and the tip of his nose graze against the back of her neck. Seconds later she feels him pull away and she's immediately disappointed by the loss of his body.

She rolls onto her back, glancing sideways at him awkwardly. "Hi."

"Hi. Sorry. I was...I move in my sleep, I guess," he stutters awkwardly.

"It's okay," she whispers.

He stares at her for a moment before looking away. "It's Christmas Eve. Which means it's almost Christmas Day," he announces.

She smiles. "Almost."

Neither one of them comment on the fact that their last day together is just a couple days away as well.

X

After breakfast, everyone is just lounging about the cottage.

Draco is sitting upright on the couch, his back settled against the corner, and Hermione is leaning back slightly against him. She's reading and he's reading over her shoulder – the very same book he claims he isn't even interested in. When she reaches the end of a page she asks him if he's done before flipping it.

Her mother and aunt are off baking treats for the following day, Jim and George are watching hockey and Caroline and Tyler are putting together a puzzle.

Suddenly, Hermione sits up and closes her book – against Draco's protests. "I want to build a snowman," she announces.

Draco smirks. "What are you, 7 years old?"

"Wha-no. You don't have to be a child to build a snowman."

"Well, no. But it usually helps."

She gets up, hands him her book, tells him not to lose her page and turns to retrieve her jacket.

"Wait, you're serious?" he wonders incredulously.

"Yes, I'm going to make a snowman and that doesn't make me a child. You can come if you want," she calls behind her as she turns to leave.

He shakes his head, watching her bound out the front door and into the yard. Within no time at all she's almost got the bottom ball done and that's when he decides he kind of wants to join her.

As he too goes to retrieve his jacket, Caroline hits Tyler in the chest. "Why can't _we_be that cute?"

Outside, Draco adjusts his mitts so they're under the cuffs of his sleeves. Hermione looks at him from over her shoulder while admiring her handy work. "See? Building a snowman isn't _all_childish."

"No, it's still childish. It just looked like you could use some help, that's all."

"Oh, you're doing me a favour then are you?"

"Naturally," he grins.

X

Later in the evening, while dinner is cooking, and Hermione is reading once more, Draco sits next to Caroline at the piano in the corner of the living room. She's been playing for a while now and is stuck on a particular part of 'Silent Night' so he walks her through it, showing her which keys to press by gliding his own fingers over them.

Hermione watches from the other side of the room, closing her book.

Moments later Caroline leaves to go to the washroom and Hermione joins him on the bench as he continues to play. "I didn't know you played the piano," she tells him softly.

"Mum forced me to get lessons when I was kid – it's her favourite instrument."

"That's funny, I _begged_my mum to enroll me in lessons. I told her it would be good for my brain and make me smart so she agreed."

He smirks. "Of course you would."

"It's a beautiful instrument though, there's nothing quite like it."

"Play with me," he says softly. So she does.

Only when they finish a few minutes later do they realize that everyone is watching them. And only then do they smell the burning meal in the kitchen.

X

The "oldies" bid them all goodnight before heading up to bed and leaving Hermione, Draco, Caroline and Tyler downstairs. Hermione asks them all what they want to do and Caroline says she has an idea before springing to her feet and disappearing into the kitchen.

Seconds later she returns with a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey in one hand and four red party cups in the other.

X

A couple hours later finds Caroline and Tyler snogging hot and heavy on the sofa, a drunk Hermione drinking wine out of the bottle and watching the snow fall like it's the first time and a slightly tipsy Draco watching her from the sofa across the room.

Tyler and Caroline disappear upstairs quickly, giggling and stumbling their way into their bedroom, and Hermione turns to face Draco, resting her head on her bent knees. She smiles drunkenly and he grins back. "You're so drunk," he declares.

She nods, closing her eyes.

"C'mon, lets get you to bed." He crosses the room and helps her to her wobbling feet, but once she's standing she doesn't move forward.

Instead she looks up at him and smiles mischievously. "Dance with me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Dance with me," she whispers.

"There's no music."

"Everyone else is in bed, we can use magic!" She exclaims.

"Shhh, Merlin, you're loud when you're intoxicated," he chides playfully.

She giggles an "oops" as he puts a spell on the piano to play a slow, peaceful song before pulling her to her feet and twirling her around carefully.

X

Draco helps Hermione stumble into the bedroom. She trips on the rug and nearly falls forward. Had it not been for his arm around her waist she would've landed on her face. "I think I know now why you don't drink very often, Granger," he comments, smirking down at her as he guides her around the bed.

She giggles as he deposits her on her side and flops back on the mattress, eyes closed.

He watches her, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Don't you dare fall asleep like that, Granger," he tells her. When she doesn't respond, he tries again. "Granger. Hey-"

"Shhh! Use your inside voice," she whispers.

"This _is_my inside voice."

She pats the space next to her for him to sit down. He does as he's silently told and she uses his arm to pull herself back up. She looks at him and he looks back calmly. "Your eyes have blue in them," she murmurs.

He blinks, taken aback. "What?"

"Your eyes, they have blue in them. I never noticed that before. They're pretty," she slurs, smiling drunkenly.

"_You're_drunk, darling" he smirks.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to any-"

"Why did you come with me?"

"You know why I came with you."

She rolls her eyes. "Because you wanted a date with Avalon, I know. But you could've gotten anyone - _anyone_- to trick her into going on a date with you. So why me?"

He shrugs. "It seemed like a good opportunity. Besides, I knew I wouldn't be able to trust anybody else with such a daunting task."

"Well thank you, for coming. Again," she replies, leaning her shoulder against his. "Do you think we could've been friends if things had been different?"

He grins, rolling his eyes playfully. "Yeah. I do. Turns out you're not so bad, Granger."

"Me too."

"'Kay, I think it's time for bed now," he announces, pushing himself to his feet.

"Wait, I have one more question."

"Granger-"

"Is there something wrong with me?"

He looks at her, confused. "W-what do you mean?"

She shrugs. "I mean...you're a guy...is there a reason I haven't been able to hold down a steady relationship? Am I...am I too needy? Am I not attractive enough? Do I-"

"There's nothing wrong with you," he replies firmly, sitting back down beside her. He hasn't a clue where this is coming from, nor did he ever think it possible for such words to ever grace her lips.

She blinks, staring sideways at him.

"Whatever the reason is, it has nothing to do with you," he explains. "You're beyond intelligent. You're funny and you have a great – albeit sometimes morbid sense of humour. You're kind, you have a huge – sometimes annoyingly so – heart, you care about everything, even the tiniest of living things. You're brave – except when it comes skiing, it seems. You're confident and independent. You're fine just the way you are."

"You failed to mention attractive; I'm not attractive."

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're _gorgeous_, Granger." She blushes; he smirks. "Any man would be lucky to have you, wizard or muggle."

She catches him off guard by throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his neck. The force pushes him back slightly, but he's both larger and stronger than her so he holds his ground. "Thanks, Draco."

She pulls away just as quickly, but only slightly, pressing her forehead against the side of his face. Her nose grazes his cheek and her breath fans hot and heavy across his skin. She smells like wine and vanilla scented shampoo and of Hermione all at once.

"Kiss me," she whispers.

He closes his eyes, dipping his head slightly. "Granger-"

"Please?"

"You're drunk," he whispers.

She pulls away then, leaning back on her heels as she plays with her hands in her lap.

"You need to get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow."

Moments later, she's out like a light, still dressed in the clothes she wore all day long. He kisses her on the forehead before falling sleep himself.


	7. December 25 - Merry freaking Christmas

UGH, I just realized how awful I've been. I haven't thanked anybody for reading, reviewing, favouriting, etc. any of these chapters. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! It means so much to me that people are interested in this story, which makes writing it all the more worthwhile, so thank you!

Now I'm going to warn everyone, this next part WILL be a little angsty. It's also kind of rushed, but only because I'm trying to make a point that things can fall apart rather quickly – which I'm sure you all would've understood anyway.

Enjoy!

* * *

_[Six – December 25]  
_  
Draco wakes up, his arms encircled once more around the brunette he's been sharing a bed with for the past several days. He lets himself enjoy the moment for a minute – enjoy her warmth and her softness, enjoy her messy hair in his face, the smell of her shampoo and the texture of her skin against his. For a moment he lets himself believe that it could happen – him and her. But only for a moment because a moment is all he can spare.

Hermione wakes up a few minutes later and he lets go of her, once again offering an awkward apology. He puts a spell on her head to help relieve her pounding headache but it's too late for her stomach as she races towards the bathroom to throw up.

Sighing heavily to nobody but himself, he pushes himself upright and follows her. His bare feet slap against the floor as he walks into the bathroom to find a pathetic looking Granger on the floor, her face buried in the toilet bowl. He chuckles softly at her misfortune, shaking his head. He laughs even harder when she mutters a barely audible "don't laugh" before burying her face into the bowl once more and emptying her stomach completely. He then soaks a small face cloth in cold water, rings it out, fills a glass with more cold water and brings both items over her; he places the cloth on the back of her neck and holds the glass for her to drink.

"Feel any better?" he asks when she leans back against the tub behind her.

She peers up at him through heavy eyelashes. "Barely."

"You will in a minute," he smirks.

"You would know, huh?"

He shrugs, lending her his hand to pull her to her feet.

"Remind me never to get wasted ever again. Especially on Christmas Eve," she adds as she walks slowly back into the bedroom.

X

Everyone yells "Happy Christmas" when they walk into the living room and Hermione winces at the sound, her body instinctively trying to turn away from it.

Caroline smirks at her. "Hung over, much?"

Draco laughs, "you have no idea."

"Don't make fun of me," Hermione pouts. "That's what happens when you give me wine..."

A loud beep from the kitchen startles everyone and Helen jumps up. "Well now that _everyone_is awake and alert – or somewhat alert (Hermione scowls at the playful snickers,) why don't you all get started on your stockings while I tend to the bird?"

Everyone agrees and collects their stocking from the fireplace mantle.

Hermione hands Draco a stocking that doesn't have a name – although it does have a card with his name on it. He looks at her questioningly, silently asking her who it's from and she shrugs her shoulders. "Open it."

So he does. And he kind of enjoys the feeling of being included.

X

Later in the afternoon, Draco notices that Hermione is unusually quiet sitting at the window and watching the snow fall. In fact, she's been quiet all day and he has a weird feeling that it has nothing to do with the fact that she's hungover.

Frowning, he gets up from his spot and joins her on the window bench, bumping his shoulder against hers softly and playfully.

She looks at him and smiles sadly.

"Hey, cheer up. It's Christmas," he reminds her.

"Hm, yeah," she says distractedly.

His frown deepens. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

She sighs, pushing herself to her feet and then pulling him with her by the hand. She continues to pull him down the hall and up the stairs – past Caroline who gives them both a weird look, which Hermione ignores. Draco, however, shrugs his shoulders with a smirk and a motion of his free hand to say she's crazy. Hermione proceeds to pull him into the bedroom, closes the door and pushes him onto the bed.

Draco smirks. "Whoa, Granger, I didn't know you liked it rough."

She rolls her eyes, plopping herself onto the bed beside him. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Do what?"

"This – us – this...charade. I don't know if I can continue lying to them."

He shakes his head. "Granger, we can't just back out now."

"I feel _awful_, Draco! I... They think we're getting married – they think we're _happy_together. I can't...I don't want to lie to them anymore," she whispers, sitting down next to him.

He looks thoughtful for a moment before turning his head to look at her. "Okay. Yeah. Suppose we go back down there and tell them all the truth – that we made everything up. 'We're not a couple, we never were a couple and we cooked this whole thing up because, well, we wanted to impress you. Merry Christmas.'"

"Where's this coming from?" he asks carefully, watching her.

"I dunno," she whispers. "It's just…it's Christmas. And we're lying through our teeth."

"And you think telling them _today_ is going to make things better?"

She sighs softly, looking down at her hands sitting in her lap. "I just..."

"I know," he replies. And he does. He sees the conflict and guilt in her big brown eyes. The fact that it's Christmas Day seems to have changed things. "I know, but I don't think today is the day."

"Then when? If not today, then when?" she wonders, exasperated.

"I dunno – a few more days, perhaps?" he suggests. "In a few days you can tell them we had a big fight and broke off the engagement. Or something. That way they'll never have to know you lied. I'll even stage an argument if you want – you know, make myself look horrible. Your parents won't want you to be with me after that anyway."

She raises her eyebrows. "That's actually not a bad idea."

He grins. "I wasn't placed in Slytherin for nothing, you know."

X

Draco and Hermione return downstairs a few moments later to find that everyone has gathered in the living room and is staring straight at them – as if they're waiting for something. Caroline, who's standing next to the Christmas tree with her arms crossed over her chest, turns to them sort of expectantly.

"What's going on?" Hermione asks wearily.

"Why don't _you_tell all of us? Isn't there something you had to tell us? An announcement, perhaps..." Caroline replies cryptically.

Hermione looks confused, glancing back at Draco who shrugs unknowingly. She looks back at Caroline, dumbfounded. "I don't...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, of course you do."

"I-"

"Oh my goodness," her mother interjects, sitting forward excitedly. "Are you pregnant?!"

Hermione's eyes widen in shock and chokes on air. "What? No! No, I'm not pregnant – we're not... No."

"Oh," Caroline starts, "she's most definitely _not_pregnant. In fact, they probably haven't even shagged."

"Caroline!" Mary squeals disapprovingly. Meanwhile her father, Jim, shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"They aren't engaged," Caroline reveals.

Hermione's gaze snaps towards her cousin, who's glaring back at her. She licks her lips nervously, staring at her.

"They aren't even a couple. This whole thing is a _charade_."

Hermione's eyes widen in disbelief. Caroline had eavesdropped on her conversation with Draco.

Everyone else is silent until her mother laughs nervously. "Care, what are you talking about?"

"Well?" Caroline presses, cocking her head to the side. "Are you going to reveal to everyone your dirty little secret, _Cuz_?"

Hermione glances back at Draco, who's standing awkwardly in the background with his hands in his pockets. She can't help the way her cheeks heat up – nor can she stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. She shakes her head slightly as her throat closes up and her tears threaten to betray her. She can't think straight and now she feels sick to her stomach. How did this even happen?

Draco steps forward, glaring disapprovingly at Caroline, who tilts her head smugly, before facing the rest of the Grangers. "Caroline's telling the truth. We aren't engaged and we aren't a couple – we never have been."

"I-I don't understand," Helen whispers, looking truly distraught.

"It's my fault," Hermione says before Draco can jump in. "Draco isn't my fiancé, he isn't my boyfriend, he...we work together. In fact we went to school together." She pauses, taking a look around at all the confused, betrayed-looking faces. "He isn't a doctor, we didn't meet in a coffee shop and we haven't fallen madly in love with each other. As Caroline said, it was all just…a charade."

"That doesn't explain the fact that you aren't engaged," Caroline points out moodily.

"You weren't even supposed to hear that-"

"Well that much is obvious."

Hermione sighs, running her hands through her hair. "I didn't...I didn't know what I was doing. I just..."

"Tell them the truth," Draco whispers in her ear.

"What?"

"The truth. Tell them," he encourages her.

Ignoring the look on her cousin's face, she faces the rest of her family, her gaze settled more-so on her parents. The look on her mother's face breaks her heart, but she proceeds to tell them everything anyway. The phone call with Caroline, feeling pressured to have a boyfriend, just wanting everyone to stop telling her she needs to settle down. She even tells them that she approached Draco after talking to her best friend because she afraid of feeling humiliated and looking like a fool in front everyone.

The guilt that settles in the pit of her stomach following the looks on everyone's faces – including on Draco's – is overwhelming. Everyone looks so disappointed and upset and...hurt. Especially her mother and Caroline. Her mother is currently guzzling back another bottle of wine, shrugging off her father who keeps trying to take the bottle away. Caroline looks like she's torn between screaming and crying, while Tyler tries to calm her down. And her aunt and uncle won't even look at her.

"So you did all of this to get back at me?" Caroline asks rhetorically. "Because you're jealous of me?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispers, choking on a sob.

"Nice. That's real nice, Hermione," she spits angrily. "And here I thought I was the one who was jealous of you." Without another word, Caroline brushes past her and disappears in the kitchen.

As if on cue, a bell goes off in the kitchen, signaling that dinner is ready but nobody moves. Everyone is speechless.  
Draco steps forward. "I'll get it-"

"It's okay, I have it," Helen mutters, pushing herself to her feet quickly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Everyone follows, giving both Hermione and Draco the cold shoulder.

Wiping a tear off her cheek, Hermione turns around to head back upstairs.

Draco grabs her elbow at the bottom step and tugs, forcing her to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not hungry," she whispers, slipping her elbow out of his grip.

He watches her disappear, groaning inwardly. Then, following the firm, harsh glance from her father through the dining room, he too goes upstairs.

Merry freaking Christmas, he thinks bitterly.


	8. December 26

Hey lovelies! So from where I am, it's officially Boxing Day. So in honour of Boxing Day, I'm going to post this next part which a boxing day day story! I'm even posting it early, so hooray!

I'm working on the VERY LAST chapter now, trying to perfect it in a way that will make everyone happy and do Dramione justice! So I'll try and have that up by the 27th, but we shall see.

Until then, enjoy this extremely short and kind of vague Boxing Day chapter!

* * *

_[Seven – December 26]_

Draco walks out of the bathroom the next morning after his shower to find Hermione packing her suitcase. He watches her for a moment; it's like she's in her own little world. She probably is, he muses.

"Going somewhere?" he asks casually, although he's fairly certain he already knows the answer to that.

She nods, keeping her back to him. "I figure we should get out early. Don't want to impose any longer than we have to."

He sighs, walking up behind her. "Granger-"

"Don't 'Granger' me, Draco. I ruined everyone's Christmas."

"_Caroline_ruined everyone's Christmas. Everything would've turned out fine had we been able to stick to the plan."

She shakes her head, whirling around to face him. The anger in her eyes is almost frightening, and it isn't even directed at him. It's directed at herself; because she blames herself. "But I started it. I started it by lying to her in the first place. And then I continued to lie to her and to everyone else – God, I made up an entirely fabricated life for myself so that I wouldn't have to feel so bloody pathetic and for what? To feel better about myself? Well that worked liked a bloody charm, 'cause I feel great now," she snaps sarcastically, turning her attention back to her suitcase.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing her but she won't look at him now.

"They hate me."

"They don't hate you. They're your family, they could never hate you," he replies softly. "Look, why don't we just go downstairs, get some breakfast, see how everyone's feeling and go from there?"

She shakes her head, "I think we should just leave – just say goodbye and be on our way."

"Running away isn't going to fix anything," he argues logically, seeing as she isn't clearly isn't thinking straight.

"Says the one who no longer spends Christmas with his family because _he's_afraid."

He opens his mouth to argue but he doesn't have one – and nor can he find one. Because she's right. Somehow she's always right.

"I'm leaving, Draco," she whispers, zipping up her suitcase. "You can either leave with me or you can disapparate later."

X

Everyone is sitting in the living room when she announces that they're leaving. Her father is reading the newspaper, her mother is knitting, Caroline and Mary are reading a magazine and Tyler and George are watching TV.

They hardly acknowledge her so she turns around with a sarcastic "alright." She's the first to leave the house, lugging her suitcase behind her.

Draco, however, hesitates and turns to face her family as he holds the door open a crack. "She wasn't trying to hurt anyone," he tells them. "In fact all she was trying to do was please you – every single one of you. She holds herself up to impossibly high standards because of the standards you've all seemed to have set for her and she's been so terrified of letting everybody down. Pushing her away isn't going to help anyone. Maybe you should just let her live her life instead of expecting things from her all the time."

He leaves then, closing the door behind him. He looks at her after he settles himself and his luggage into the car and reaches across the gap to wipe away a fallen tear from her cheek. She thanks him softly, brokenly, before she begins the long drive home.

X

"So. Out with it," Ginny tells her firmly.

After dropping Draco off at his penthouse, she'd gone home to shower, unpack her suitcase and start her laundry before she owled Ginny to let her know she was home.

She was curled up on the sofa watching the 1964 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer movie when she received a letter back from Ginny telling her to come over.

Now, two hours later, here she is amidst a house full of children still playing excitedly with their Christmas gifts and of adults playing with their own boy-toys while simultaneously "supervising" the children. And up until now, she's managed to avoid a certain specific topic.

"Out with what?" Hermione asks dumbly.

"Well how'd it go?"

"It was fine."

Ginny turns to look at her seriously. "What happened?"

The brunette sighs, her resolve faltering slightly as she pulls her feet onto the sofa and folds them underneath her. "Everything was fine at first – great, actually. Draco and I were getting along so well that it was almost too easy to convince everyone that we were a real couple."

"But..?"

"But then Caroline overheard us talking about everything and she freaked out – told everybody. So I had to tell them all the truth, which...well, ruined their Christmas."

"What – are you serious? What is wrong with that girl? Why would she do that?"

Hermione shrugs. "She had every right to-"

"No she didn't!" Ginny exclaims offensively. "If anything she should've talked to you about it first-"  
"I lied to her, Ginny. I lied to everyone – and it's not even like it was just once, it was...I lied to them every day. She had every right to mad at me, they all do," Hermione says softly.

Ginny frowns. "Is that why you left so early this morning?"

She nods. "Yeah. They could hardly even look at me and I didn't want to feel like a burden or anything," she explains. "Draco wanted to stay for a while, but I couldn't just...it just didn't feel right."

"You'll have to talk to them at some point, 'Mione," Ginny replies. "You can't avoid them forever."

"You sound like Draco," she groans.

Ginny smiles. "Speaking of Draco...you said you were getting along?"

Hermione rolls her eyes playfully. "Yes, we were."

"And?"

"And what?"

Ginny blinks. "Well, I dunno, I just thought – nevermind," she mutters, deciding instead to drop the topic of conversation. For now. "Ignore me. Want some eggnog?"

X

Draco twirls his glass around in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl around the inside as he leans against the kitchen counter.

Blaise stands on the other side of the marble island, watching his best friend in amusement. He smirks, folding his arms across his chest as he leans forward with his elbows on the counter. "So."

"Hmm?" the blond asks distractedly.

"Geez, distracted much?" The dark-skinned wizard teases smugly as he raises his own glass of fire whiskey to his lips.

"What?"

"My point exactly. Granger?"

"What, about Granger?"

"That's what I want to know."

Draco frowns, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What the bloody hell are you talking?"

"You're distracted and I think it has to do with a certain crazy witch."

"She's not crazy, she-" he stops himself before he accidentally reveals too much information.

Blaise smirks knowingly.

"Whatever, it's over with," Draco mutters. "She's done with me, so..."

"Are _you_ done with _her_?"

Draco stares at him for a moment. "Doesn't matter."

Blaise frowns.

"Besides, my date with Avalon is tomorrow."

The dark-skinned wizard rolls his eyes. "I can't believe you're actually following through with that ridiculous idea."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You have nothing in common with her! She's – she's..."

"She's what?" Draco presses exasperated.

_Not Granger_, the smug wizard thinks with a smirk. "Nevermind, you're not going to listen to me anyway."

"Look, it's just a date. It's not like I plan on marrying the bird," Draco scoffs.

"Right, yeah, of course. Have you seen your mother?"

Draco rolls his eyes. "No. But I owled her when I got home. Don't worry yourself sick, Zabini, I'll see her eventually."

X

For the first time in days Hermione finds herself getting ready for bed alone and as she crawls under the cool covers, she misses the presence of a certain blond-haired ferret next to her.

X

Draco, too, lies awake, staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night. Something is keeping him awake tonight and he has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the fuzzy-haired brunette he'd shared a bed with for the last five nights.

He kind of wishes he still were.


	9. Epilogue

Everybody! I am deeply saddened, excited and sort of relieved to announce that this little Christmas story has come to an end. (I hate when Christmas ends…) First, I want to thank each and every one of my readers, followers and reviewers for taking the time to give my story (and sometimes stories, you know who you are) the time of day. It's a wonderful feeling for a writer to know that they have readers who care and I look forward to seeing any and all reviews all the time! So thank you, thank you, thank you.

Second, I hope that everybody had/is having a great holiday and that this holiday ending does justice!

Enjoy :)

* * *

_[Eight – Epilogue]  
December 31_

"I don't want to go."

"You have to go."

"I just don't feel like-"

"No," Ginny says firmly, stomping her foot. She looks sternly at her friend sitting on the couch, still wearing her pajamas from the previous night. "You've been sulking around ever since you got back – you're not backing out. I'm not letting you."

Hermione sighs, sinking further into the back of the sofa. She's supposed to be going out with her friends for New Years. Last week she could hardly wait, but now she doesn't even want to leave the house. "Ginny-"

"I thought you spoke with your parents and that everything is fine now," the redhead interjects, folding her arms over her chest.

"I did. It is."

"And didn't you and Caroline go have tea the other day?"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Yes, but-"

"Is it Draco?"

She blinks, taken aback. "What?" Where did that even come from?

"Is it Draco? Is that why you don't want to go – because he's going to be there?"

"No, I don't care if he's there," she replies quickly - perhaps too quickly. She curses herself inwardly for being so defensively.

Ginny raises a perfect, skeptical eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Yes – look, I just..."

"Please?" the redhead begs, sitting on the sofa next to her. "Please come, it won't be the same if you're not there."

Hermione groans, glancing sideways at her best friend – more-so at the look of desperation mean for tugging at her guilt strings.

X

Hermione walks into the busy, gold, silver and black decorated pub with Ginny and Harry and the second she sees a head of very familiar blond hair through the incredibly crowded lobby, butterflies attack her stomach with vengeance.

Everyone – Ron, Luna, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Blaise, Theo and, of course, Draco are already there, taking up an entire wall of tables at the back of the building. The trio walks towards the rest of the group and greetings of holidays and new years along with friendly hugs and kisses are exchanged.

Blaise gives her a playful grin and tugs on one of her curls like he always does so she slaps his hand away. Theo flirts with her teasingly, deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable with his sexual jokes and innuendos.

She slips her jacket off and throws it into the corner of the booth along with everyone else's before adjusting her long, silver sequined top over her black leggings. The bar is noisy; the music is loud and the conversations are louder – and yet she doesn't even seem to mind. She catches Draco's eye from across the table and her pulse races, her heart jumps into her throat and a million small thoughts hit her at once. He winks and she looks away.

X

She's been standing at the bar counter waiting for the female bartender to tend to her for nearly 10 minutes now. She feels his presence before she hears his drawl.

"Avoiding me, are you?"

She stiffens. "Not at all," she replies, but doesn't look at him.

"Really?" Draco asks skeptically, obviously not believing her.

"Why would I be avoiding you?"

"I dunno, you tell me," he challenges.

"I already told you I'm not-"

"Then look at me."

She sighs and does as she's told, turning her face to the side to look at him over her shoulder. He's staring heavily at her, his dark grey eyes boring intimately into hers and she feels entirely too uneasy so she looks away. "The bartender hates me," she says a moment later.

"'Cause you're female. Watch." His chest brushes against hers – causing an involuntary shiver over her whole body – as he leans forward to get the bartender's attention. And sure enough, it works. "I'll get a whiskey on the rocks and whatever this beauty wants to drink," he says, cocking his head toward Hermione.

She can't help the blush that creeps its way onto her cheeks as she places her own order. She tells him he doesn't have to pay but he insists, tossing money onto the counter.

When the drinks arrive she takes hers and turns to walk back to their table but he stops her, taking her elbow in his hand. The contact is exhilarating and she gasps softly, looking back at him.

"Talk to me here for a minute," he murmurs.

She blinks. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I feel like we haven't talked in days."

"That's because we haven't."

He smirks knowingly. "I knew it. You're mad at me."

She rolls her eyes. "Not everything is about _you_, Malfoy."

"Malfoy? We're back to that, huh? Now I _really_know you're mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?" she asks innocently.

"For the same reason you're avoiding me, it would seem."

She cocks an eyebrow. "And what reason is that?"

"I haven't got a clue."

"Well that's too bad," she mutters, slipping her arm from his grasp before walking away.

X

"Avalon," he says, sitting next to her at the table.

"My name is Hermione, but thanks," she replies sarcastically.

"No – Avalon is the reason you're mad at me," he says smugly, leaning forward so he can face her.

She rolls her eyes. "I don't care about Avalon."

"So you don't care to know how it went then?"

Her jaw tightens. "No, I don't."

"I think you do."

"I don't care."

He grins. "I think you care too much about my date with Avalon and I think it's driving you mad - which is why you're so mad at _me_. Because, really, you're mad at _yourself_."

"That doesn't even make any sense," she scoffs.

"Sure it does. Think about it."

She scowls at him.

"I can tell you how it went if you want."

"I don't care-"

"Technically it was great," he starts, resting the side of his head against his fist as he gazes at her, gouging her reaction. "She was very nice, polite, well-mannered, extremely well-groomed, beautiful. And she was okay with the fact that we tricked her into going on the date in the first place."

Despite her best efforts, she finds herself listening – and interested.

"Otherwise, however, it was horrible."

She blinks, taken aback. Surprised. And, well, sort of enthusiastic. "How so?"

He smirks. "She's dull. Both in intelligence and in excitement, meaning she's boring as hell," he says. "She has no fire or passion or drive or anything in life. She's got this extremely annoying monotonous tone. Not to mention she's extremely prissy and stuck-up, you know, the pureblood princess type."

"I thought that _was_your type."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as takes a rather large sip of his drink. "Yeah, perhaps when I was but a spoiled, selfish, stupid teenager," he smirks. "My type is more...intelligent. Passionate. Driven. A little more...laid back."

She sighs. "What are you trying to say, Draco?"

He stares at her for a moment. Silent. "I miss you," he says suddenly.

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she looks down at her drink. "Yeah. Right."

"It's true," he insists. "From the moment you dropped me off."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Hell if I know."

She shakes her head and turns to leave him, pushing herself to her feet to walk away.

He grabs her arm and stops her once more before she can get away. "Granger, c'mon," he says, laughing nervously as he tugs her towards him. "We got along just fine when we were away-"

"-because we _had_to. That's the only reason you came and that's the only reason you cared – because your reputation was riding on your performance."

"I could say the same thing about you," he points out.

"All the more reason to just forget this – this-"

"_Charade_?"

"Yes!" she yells, pushing herself away from him.

He growls low in his throat, stepping toward her which forces her to move back until she can't move any further because of the table behind her. "You want to know why I went with you? You _really_want to know why I decided to go?"

"I already know-"

"Because I was hoping that maybe we _could_figure out a way to get along – that maybe we could be friends, or something like it," he admits despite the voice in his head telling him to stop talking. "The rest of your friends and I get along just fine now – hell, Little Red Weasley seems quite fond of me, don't you think? That's why she came to me and told me that you were going to ask me to-" He cuts himself off at the shocked look on her pretty little face and he recognizes the fact he said too much. "Shit," he mutters.

"What?" she asks, her eyes wide with disbelief. "G-Ginny told you I was going to ask you? So you already knew when... What else did she say?"

He sighs. "She told me I should help you. Said it might finally 'fix the rift' between us and that maybe we could...sort out our differences."

"I can't believe she would... Why does it matter to you so much that we get along?" she asks suddenly, more interested in his own motives than in Ginny's. "I thought you liked our petty little arguments."

"I do," he smirks. "Getting you all riled up is a trait in me that I actually like to embrace."

"Then why would you possibly want to get along?"

He pauses for a moment, hesitating before he decides he might as well go all in. "Because you're the only one who still hates me. Because you're the only one who hasn't forgiven me for what I did and what I was. Because sometimes I want to be able to have an intelligent conversation with you without it turning into a fight, 'cause Merlin knows you're the _only_one who can keep up with me. Because as much as I – regrettably – like Potter and Weasley, talking to them gets old fairly quickly. Because you...intrigue me," he murmurs, taking a step towards her.

She blinks, staring at him blankly. She doesn't know what to say so she dismisses herself to the loo, slipping past him before he has another chance to stop her.

X

She sees him sitting at the bar, drink in hand. A fairly beautiful and sexy woman in a figure-hugging red dress approaches him but he doesn't even look at her before sending her away. She smiles to herself as she approaches him because she knows what he's doing. He's sulking. And he's making it painfully obvious that he's turning down all sorts of women. "You're breaking hearts tonight," she teases, standing behind him.

"I'm not the only one," he mutters bitterly, taking a sip from his drink.

She blinks, staring at him strangely. He couldn't mean... He's not actually serious, is he?

"Sit down if you're sitting, Granger."

She does, sliding onto the bar stool next to him. "My mother told me what you said to them about me," she tells him casually. "Thank you for sticking up for me."

He glances sideways at her. "You're welcome. You spoke, then?"

She nods vigorously, looking happy. "Caroline and I went out for a tea the other day too. She told me she was sorry for ruining everything. Apparently while I've been jealous of her my whole life for being beautiful and popular, she's been jealous of me for being, well, me," she says, pausing for a moment as a light blush spreads across her face. "She said she's kind of more upset with the fact that we aren't a real couple than with the fact that we lied to her. She thinks we have chemistry."

His brow furrows in confusion. "I don't know what that is."

"It's like potions."

He blinks and then nods once, like he understands.

"I don't hate you," she whispers, leaning closer to him as she cranes her neck to get a better view of his face. "And I _have_forgiven you. I just... I guess I figured the more hostile I was toward you the further I could keep you," she admits softly.

"I don't know what that means either," he mutters, staring into his glass.

She sighs softly. "You're the kind of guy who commands attention – especially from women," she starts, running her fingers absentmindedly around the rim of her own glass. "They love you because you're handsome, you're charming and you know how to talk to them confidently without coming on too strong or desperate. But you're also extremely cunning and you always get what you want when you want it, which makes it so easy for women to fall for you – because you _make_it easy. And I didn't want to be that woman. I think I thought that since you got along so well with Harry and Ron it would become inevitable that we would too, so I fought against it," she admits.

He's watching her like he's trying to figure her out. Like she's an enigma.

"I guess...I guess it's kind of like skiing and Quidditch. It's nice in theory and it looks fun from afar, but I won't do it because-"

"You're afraid of falling," he finishes.

She smiles weakly with a slight nod of her head.

"Afraid of falling – or afraid of falling for _me_?"

She shrugs, "both, I suppose."

He turns his body to face her, one arm on the edge of the counter and the other hand resting on his thigh. "And now? Still afraid?"

"I don't know. I don't know how I feel or _what_I feel... It's like sometimes I want to hit you over the head with a bludger and then five seconds later-"

"You want to snog the life out of me."

She blushes, dipping her head.

He leans in, placing his finger under chin as he lifts her face to look at him. "Why don't you?"

"Because I don't know if I should," she says truthfully.

"Why not?"

"Give me one good reason why I should."

"I'm a damn good kisser," he smirks, inching closer to her as he wraps his hand around the back of her neck.

"Another."

"You said one-"

"Give me another," she presses challengingly.

"Midnight is only a few minutes away."

She sucks on a breath as he presses his forehead against hers. "Give me a _real_reason."

He blinks, his dark grey eyes boring intimately into hers as he holds her face firmly in place so she can't shy away from him. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you – since before we even got back. Because even though Christmas Day fell apart, it was still one of the happiest Christmases of my life. Because if we can make a damn good fake couple, we can make a helluva couple in real life," he murmurs, moving his fingers to stroke across her cheeks. "Because I'm falling too."

She giggles softly, her finger closing around his silver tie as she pulls him closer. "This is entirely wrong and completely illogical."

"I agree."

"The chances of this working out are probably incredibly small-"

"No doubt."

"We're going to fight more-"

"I look forward to it."

"We're going to drive each other mad-"

"We've always driven each other mad, why stop now?"

"I...I lose myself when I'm around you," she whispers admittedly. "That's why I get so riled up when you pick fights with me."

He smirks. "Why do you think I go out of my way to fight with you?"

She giggles softly, leaning against him as she cranes her neck to see him. "Kiss me," she whispers.

He grins, curling his free arm around her waist as he captures her lips in the most passionate, mind devouring kiss of his life.

X

Blaise smirks from across the building, elbowing a certain redhead in the ribs.

"Ow!" Ginny protests, turning to face him. "What?"

"What'd I tell you?" He cocks his head in the general direction of his best friend and the brunette of his friend's wildest fantasies.

Ginny smiles. "Finally! God, it took them long enough, didn't it?"

"I told you he'd come to his senses."

"Only because I convinced them to go out of town together."

"_'Only because I convinced them'_- shut up Weasley," he mocks. "The _point_is that I was right."

"So was I."

Silences falls over them as they watch the couple at the bar unable to keep their hands off each other.

"They're kind of adorable, aren't they?"

He shrugs. "I suppose."

"This also means they're going to fight more," she points out.

"At least they'll have an excuse now, instead of those petty little 'She's an annoying know-it-all'."

Ginny laughs. "Or 'He's vile, _somebody_has to put him in place."

"Excuses, excuses," he chuckles/

"Look at them – they're like horny teenagers!"

He smirks. "'Tis the season, I suppose."

* * *

The End. [But the end is only the beginning. (But not actually.)]


End file.
